I’m going to regret that when I see tomorrow’s search terms.

One of the people I follow on Twitter, The RadicaLactivist, posted a link to a collection of breastfeeding in art through the ages today and I absolutely love it. The creators collected several hundred drawings, paintings, sculptures and photos of mothers nursing their babies from the ancient times to now. I especially love the photos of women in full Victorian dress with a baby attached to their boob. I imagine their intention was just a classic family photo but after holding still for the old-timey camera so long their babies got fussy and needed to be fed.

It’s an amazing collection of nursing depicted as natural and beautiful through time and across the globe. Wouldn’t it be nice if breastfeeding was still seen that way?

Last night while I was making dinner the inevitable happened and I cut myself with a big serrated knife. I’m honestly surprised it hadn’t happened sooner, during those first couple of hazy, sleep deprived months when I was so exhausted I couldn’t remember my own name and had no business opening a can of soup let alone using the stove and the oven and sharp objects. But last night, despite being fairly well rested and getting 99% of the meal done without incident, I sliced open my finger while cutting the hamburger rolls. (Seriously, how stupid is that? They sell pre-cut rolls, right next to the non-cut ones and if I hadn’t insisted on buying the fancy onion kind I would have saved myself $2.00 and quite a bit of pain.)

After standing in the kitchen and yelling for a few minutes I ended up lying on the floor taking deep breaths to keep myself from passing out and hitting my head. I don’t react well to blood when it’s my own (something that runs in our family – Hi Dad!) and although the cut certainly didn’t need stitches if I fainted and hit the counter or the floor I could easily end up in the ER.

So I moaned and whimpered and E ran to get me a band-aid and came back with the hydrogen peroxide because I needed to “clean out the wound”.

Me: NO WAY IN HELL AM I POURING PEROXIDE ON ANYTHING,
E: Yes. You have to wash it out.
Me: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO STAY AWAAAAAAAAAY.
E: You know, you’re kind of a wuss about pain.
Me: You can’t call me a wuss, you threw a fit because you stubbed your toe last week. And…and…AND…
E: Oh I knew this was coming.
Me: AND. I GAVE BIRTH. You cannot call someone who has given birth a wuss. EVER.
E: You had to go and pull the birth card didn’t you?
Me: The birth card never expires. It’s good FOREVER. And don’t you forget it.

Last night our sweet, cuddly co-sleeping arrangement suffered a severe setback when I reached down to pat the baby and came back with a hand covered in poop. Liquid, yellow poop. Are you enjoying your breakfast? Hopefully it’s not applesauce. Or pureed squash.

I suspect the poopsplosion had something to do with the FOUR times Baby Evan nursed last night, since he also peed so much his diaper stopped absorbing and it soaked into his swaddle. I think my nipple has officially become his nighttime security blanket more than as actual source of nourishment. He doesn’t nurse to sleep at bedtime but when he wakes up at night it’s so much easier to just feed him than to get up and rock and pace and shush and listen to him fuss and for the love of God just take the nipple already!  But when he’s latched on – even when he’s not hungry – he’s getting milk and all that food has to go somewhere. I would prefer if that somewhere didn’t include ON ME. And the sheets. And the mattress. AND ON ME. But whatevs. I doubt that’s the last nighttime poop incident we have in his life. Might as well get used to it.

The sad part of the story is all that pooping didn’t faze Baby Evan at all – he just rolled over onto his stomach so he didn’t have to lie in crap and kept on snoozing. So I had to wake up my peacefully sleeping baby at 6 am to get the poop cleaned off him. And the sheets. And the towel I keep by the bed for emergencies. AND ME. When, really, I could have just let him keep sleeping and dealt with the poopsplosion after the sun came up. I think that’s when you know you’re officially a parent – you actually consider the “lie in poop but get more sleep” option. Yes, dear pregnant readers, this IS what having a baby is really like.

Happy Birthday Evan Richard Davis III! (Someday, that is going to look totally ridiculous on a cake.

It’s official – I no longer have a newborn. Newborns lie around like lumps.  They’re floppy and delicate and wear little hats and tiny diapers. You watch them every second they’re awake hoping they’ll smile, but when they do it’s accompanied by a full diaper. You have to feed newborns as soon as they start acting hungry no matter where or when. Newborns cry for no reason, sleep at odd hours and are easily carried around in a bucket car seat, mostly unaware of their surroundings.

Baby Evan is not newly born. He rolls and scoots and is only a week or two away from crawling. He loves being tossed in the air or spinning in circles or bouncing on your knee. He pulls all those adorable hats I bought him off his head and shoves them in his mouth. He’s graduated from “swaddler” diapers to “cruisers”. He cries because he is hungry or tired or hurt or, more likely, trapped under a piece of furniture. He laughs at the dog and funny sounds and when you tickle him. Baby Evan goes to bed at 8:30 pm and takes two naps during the day. He rides in big kid car seat that stays in the car and loves going new places and charming everyone he meets. In public, he’s too interested in his surroundings to sit still and have a snack, and besides, he has two whole teeth now and that practically makes him an adult.

Our 6 month doctor’s appointment is on Friday, and I’ll get his official weight (ELEPHANT), length (FOOTBALL FIELD) and head size (SUN) then, but for now here’s how he’s meeting his milestones from BabyCenter:

Mastered Skills (most kids can do):

• Turns toward sounds and voices – Definitely. He especially loves music or singing, even if it’s on tv.
• Imitates sounds – I’ve heard “Ma” and “Da” and lots of other “almost words” but mostly he just babbles. Or screeches.
• Rolls over in both directions – Rolls, plus he can spin in a circle and push up with straight arms.

Emerging Skills (half of kids can do):

• Is ready for solid foods – Ugh, solids. I bought some baby oatmeal that didn’t need to be cooked and mixed it with breastmilk but he made faces and gagged. He was slightly more interested in the baby applesauce (I definitely thought it tasted better than the cold oatmeal)(The dog, on the other hand, practically ate the baby’s face off trying to lick up all the oatmeal) but still didn’t get much in his actual mouth. I guess we’ll wait another couple weeks before trying again.
• Sits without support – Mostly. He does a really great job…right up until you look away. Then he falls on his face. I think he’s doing it on purpose.
• Mouths objects – What DOESN’T he mouth? Favorites include: remote controls, paper, and my feet, with or without shoes on.
• Passes objects from hand to hand – All the time, although mostly reaches with his right. No southpaws in this family.

Advanced Skills (a few kids can do):

• Lunges forward or starts crawling – Not on the floor but he can lunge from your arms. Which is why I tie him to me with the mai tei instead of trying to hold him in public.
• Jabbers or combines syllables – No, unless “bppppppffffftttt aaaayyyyyeeeeeiiiiiiii” counts.
• Drags objects toward himself – Yes. Putting a bottle of ketchup almost out of his reach is a great way to distract him long enough to eat half your meal at a restaurant

So it looks like we’re right on track to a normal child. At least until he starts talking and his first words are “your mom”. Or maybe “Legendary!” I might actually encourage that one.

…we go to Target. And also to Chili’s.

Check out my adorable pumpkin hat. My parents bought it for me.

Haha! Just kidding! They're way too cheap to buy me stuff. They just took pictures of me in the store.

Oh hey Mom, those boots are pretty stylin'

But those boots over there are way cooler! I would throw up on them any day!

Cutest thing ever, we are. Going back to buy this doll for sure, my mom is.

Waitress! Bring me more coasters to chew on!

P.S. We went back and bought Yoda today. Expect to see a lot more of him in future pictures.